


Working Towards The Final Masterpiece

by caz251



Series: The Colourful Life Of The Harkness-Jones' [5]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 18:38:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caz251/pseuds/caz251
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Harkness-Jones children take frequent trips with their uncle, but one trip starts to set the path for their futures. Written for teachwriteslash, the Mistress of Crayons, for all that she did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Working Towards The Final Masterpiece

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Torchwood.

Ianto let a small smile cross his face as he looked at the artwork in front of him. The blues faded into green and the reds into oranges and yellows. It wasn't so much a fade as a collision of colours to represent the sun, sky and land. Although the page was full of a multitude of scribbles they were easily identifiable.

He then looked to see his daughter's picture only to be blown away. The image was so lifelike, he was sure that he could see every grain of wood of the TARDIS panels. Rhosyn, like Gwillym, was using only crayons, but the difference in their styles was amazing. He watched her as she put the finishing touches on the picture before she removed any excess crayon and turned to him expectantly. He smiled at her before going to get what she needed, he came back carrying a spray can of fixative that he sprayed over the picture before putting the can back on the top shelf out of the children's reach.

As he looked at the picture he noticed the dedication:  
For Uncle Doctor  
Love Rhosyn x

Rhosyn was devoted to her uncle, and he to her, she had the Time Lord wrapped around her little finger and he didn't seem to mind. It was the Doctor who had been the one behind his children's love of art, and it made him feel a bit better about the trips the Doctor took them on. Ianto had always worried when the Doctor took the children for a weekend, not because he didn't trust the man, rather because he knew the man's penchant for finding trouble. He was becoming a bit more careful as he got older though, especially when Rhosyn and Gwillym were with him.

It was always somewhere of educational value that he took them, often to the past, but sometimes to other planets and to the future. The last trip they had taken had been a weeklong one to give him and Jack some time to themselves. The Doctor had taken them to see many different artists, or so Rhosyn had gushed to him over the phone. He had then enrolled them on a short four day beginner's course at the leading art school on Sanicra, the culture capital of the solar system.

Both of his children had come back from that trip completely obsessed with art. That wasn't a bad thing though; art was an obsession that he could deal with. If they had come home obsessed with alien cuisine there may have been a problem. In saying that, he knew that if that had been the case he would have adapted. It would just have meant that the Doctor would have become the designated driver for his shopping trips; it wasn't as if there was an Intergalactic ASDA down by Cardiff Bay.

Since they had arrived home they had worked on a picture everyday, sometimes spending days on one aspect of a picture. He had made the mistake of telling Rhosyn that practice makes perfect and had then had to listen to her rant.

She had stood, hands on her hips, glaring at him with a serious expression on her face, it was rather adorable but unsettling at the same time. "No Tad. Practice is puerile, you don't practice a painting you paint one. Perseverance is key to perfection, but to persevere takes patience. Patience leads to perfection, not practice Tad." His seven year old had spoken before adding, "Mistress Mistral said so."

He had just smiled at her, telling her to go back to her picture while he called her uncle. Phoning the Doctor he had demanded to know where on Earth, or rather where in the solar system he had taken his children. That had been a few weeks ago now and the Doctor was arriving later that day for the first time in over a month. He was taking them all away this time, Ianto wanted to see the place where his children had spent a short amount of time that had such an impact on them. Jack was interested as well, not just about going off-world, but he wanted to look into life drawing classes.

As soon as they heard the sound of the TARDIS materialising Rhosyn and Gwillym rushed towards the back garden pictures in hand. Ianto watched from the window as the Doctor picked up Rhosyn and then Gwillym, listening to them as they both spoke to him at once. He gave a start as a pair of arms slid around his waist, a head resting on his shoulder. "He's good with them." Jack said quietly as if talking any louder would disturb the picture that was their children and the mad Time Lord.

Ianto just nodded, he knew that no other words needed to be spoken on the subject. The Doctor loved their children and they him, and they knew that the Time Lord would do everything in his power to keep them safe. They moved away from the window, Ianto grabbing their bags while Jack did a last check of the house before locking up. Owen and Toshiko had taken charge of the Hub that weekend, and they were looking after the little monster that Jack had brought home a few years previously; their brown puppy that was no longer a puppy, Toffee.

Entering the TARDIS Ianto went straight to his children's room on board to put their bags away. They shared a large room that was decorated to look like the Torchwood Hub; most likely the TARDIS's doing to make them feel at home. He placed their bags on their beds before turning to leave the room. It was then that he saw the picture on the back of the door; a canvas painting of his daughter sat at a table drawing. He wondered who had done the painting; had the Doctor actually sat still enough to paint a picture. He looked closer at the picture and noticed the signature in the corner of the canvas.

Rhosyn came running into the room a minute later, dragging him with her to the console room where everyone else was gathered. It didn't take them long to get to Sanicra and soon the children and soon the children were rushing for the TARDIS doors so they could go to the school. Ianto nodded to Jack and the other man followed the children out, knowing that Ianto would catch up with them. First Ianto wanted to talk to the Doctor about whoever this Jansin was and the picture they had painted of his daughter.

Ianto stared at the Doctor in amazement at what he had just watched, the TARDIS databanks showing him the whole encounter with Jansin. An artist from the 49th century that had taken a shine to his daughter, believing her to be his muse sent through time. He had insisted on being allowed to paint her and the Doctor seeing no problem with it had agreed, he knew the man after all, he was a child of one of his previous companions much like Rhosyn was.

The Doctor had taken Rhosyn and Gwillym to see Jansin knowing of his work as an artist. He had painted the portrait of Rhosyn using a device that was often used by criminalists to replicate a scene so that she only had to stay in one position for a moment and didn't have to sit through the rest of the painting. The portrait entitled Muse was the only painting of a living creature that Jansin ever completed; it was also the only painting he never sold. He had kept the painting in his home until his end was near at which point he had contacted the Doctor to view the finished piece. When he had left the Doctor had the painting with him with instructions to give it to the muse, as it belonged to her and not to any of those who would try to claim it on his death.

Ianto marvelled at the fact that in the future there would be such a desire to possess a painting of Rhosyn, and at how much the painting must be worth. He couldn't believe that an artist had left his most notorious painting to his seven year old daughter, regardless of her being his muse. He sighed to himself, he would have to make sure that Rhosyn knew the true value of the painting, not it's monetary worth, but the portrait itself; he would be lying if he said that it wasn't a masterpiece. He shook his head once to try and clear it of all distracting thoughts; right now his family were waiting for him at the Sanicra School of Art.

He nodded to the Doctor and they left the TARDIS, making their way towards the rest of their family, this was a trip away for them to enjoy, and enjoy it he would. He knew Jack was going to try and rope him into life drawing classes if the school did them, but even that wouldn't be so bad; as long as they were together and had fun it wouldn't matter what they did. He listened to his family as he joined them, Rhosyn pleading with Jack to buy her more crayons, and he chuckled, his daughter really couldn't have too many crayons.


End file.
